


Take Two

by MyOwnSuperintendent



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, Mild Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-23
Updated: 2018-09-23
Packaged: 2019-07-15 20:02:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16070297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MyOwnSuperintendent/pseuds/MyOwnSuperintendent
Summary: Along with Mulder, Scully takes a second vacation to Maine.  Set post-IWTB, pre-revival.





	Take Two

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own The X-Files or anything related to it. Hope you enjoy!

The first time, she went alone.  She was still in a funk, a fog, reeling from what had happened in San Diego.  She needed to be somewhere calm, somewhere she wouldn’t have to see anyone or think about any of it.  (That didn’t happen, of course.  It never did.)

The second time, they go together.  They drive up to Boston on a sunny Friday in August and spend the night, and then they drive the rest of the way to Maine on Saturday.  That leg of the trip takes less than two hours, and they play a Harry Belafonte record, the sound of summer in his voice.  When they get near enough to smell the ocean, Mulder teases her about sea monsters.

 

The first time, it was winter.  She stopped and bought a t-shirt on her way up; it said Maine on it, and it seemed like the thing to wear, when you were on vacation, when you weren’t at work, when you didn’t want to think about work.  She even put it on, in a rest stop bathroom, and then she shivered for the rest of the drive.  She could have stopped to put her jacket on, but she was stubborn.  She did put it on when she was going into the grocery store, to look more in control of the situation, and she was secretly relieved.  But she wouldn’t have done it otherwise.

The second time, it’s summer.  She’s packed t-shirts, bathing suits, a sundress, a giant bottle of sunblock.  Before they go to the beach, Mulder rubs the sunblock into her back; he nuzzles her neck, tells her she looks pretty.  It’s still cool in the evenings, so near the coast, and she wears a sweatshirt and jeans when they sit out on the patio.  He puts his arms around her and nuzzles her neck again.

 

The first time, she was by herself.  She pretended, when Mulder first called her, that she wanted the vacation, that he was getting on her nerves.  But she came to find herself waiting for his calls.  Even then, she didn’t really want to go it alone.

The second time, she has people.  Mulder’s here in the flesh now, of course, not just over the phone.  And he’s not offering her his theories about strange happenings (well, no more than they come up in the normal course of conversation).  No, he’s swimming with her, as well as they can when the water feels like ice.  Cajoling her into getting that additional ice cream cone, not that she needs too much persuading.  Holding her hand at dinner and looking at her like she’s the most special person who ever lived.  They crowd together into the small guest room bathtub, washing off the sand.  They make love at night, sometimes urgently, sometimes tenderly.

Charlie’s here too.  He invited them; this time she was going to something, instead of away from something.  She likes seeing him, although he leaves her and Mulder alone a fair amount of the time; he knows better, he says, than to get in between a honeymoon couple.  He’s been living up here for some years now, running his gallery, which he shows them with pride.  It’s a beautiful place, right on the water.  Mulder takes a picture of her smiling and pointing up at the sign.

 

The first time, she wanted to go home.  She was tired, by the end; she hadn’t gotten the rest she hoped for.  She couldn’t even take a bath without getting interrupted.  She missed Mulder maybe more than she wanted to admit.  She’d felt happy, again, for the first time in a while, when she’d walked back into the office and seen him.

The second time, she doesn’t know if she wants to leave or to stay.  They talk about it on the last day, the two of them, while they’re eating their final ice cream cones on the benches overlooking the water.  “I’m going to miss this,” she says, leaning her head against his.

“Me too, Scully,” he says.  “But hey.  We’ve got a lot to look forward to.”  He touches her free hand with his own.  She looks down at their rings, still so new.

“I know,” she says, thinking about their house waiting for them.  No beach there.  No sea air.  But it has its own sense of peace, for all that.  “We should come back, though,” she says.

He nods.  “You like it here a lot, don’t you?”

“I do,” she says, and they sit together and watch the boats. 


End file.
